


Better than Nothing

by PantyDragon



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Bottom Loki, First Time, I ship all the Young Avengers with All the Young Avengers, M/M, POV First Person, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Why do I keep writing all these first person fics lately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PantyDragon/pseuds/PantyDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If your relationship fails spectacularly, there's always fully-clothed opportunistic New Year's bathroom sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better than Nothing

“Leaving early?”

I stop in my tracks, wishing I had used actual magic instead of relying on the dimness in the hallways. “Technically, I was never here.”

Noh-Varr lopes around me, his gaze accusatory. That’s nothing new, but he has a surprisingly strong sense of authority for someone who’s naked to the waist.

“Who were you creeping on, Loki?”

I press my back to the wall, feeling the pounding of the music vibrate through my ribcage, and smile. “Isn’t Lady Hawkeye missing you? There’s quite a party going on out there.”

“It surprises me how terrible you are at being evasive.”

“No one.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“David. A little. I’m leaving, don’t worry about it.”

Noh-Varr laughs dryly. “I was going to ask how tragically he shot you down, but I think the fact that you’re slinking around in the dark with your tail between your legs is indication enough.”

“I can’t help but notice,” I coo wickedly, “that you – of all people – are here _slinking_ with me.”

He rolls his eyes. I genuinely hadn’t intended to stick around, but I’ve never been good at letting a personal tragedy lie unscathed. “You were holding out hope, I think, that she’d take you back. How did that turn out?”

He only sneers mockingly in reply.

Here is where it would be wise of me to take my leave. I don’t. “That makes me feel a little better.”

“What does?”

“The fact that neither of us is getting laid on New Year’s.”

He takes a slow step closer, reminding me that he is still slightly taller than I am. “Isn’t fourteen a bit young by human standards anyway?”

“I’m not actually human, and it’s been _days_ since I was close to fourteen. Don’t get hung up on technicalities.” He’s close enough that I can smell a faint tinge of warm sweat. It’s not unpleasant.

“How does it feel being a virgin god of sexual deviancy?” He asks scathingly, “Certainly makes my situation seem a lot less…pathetic.”

My shoulder blades shift against the faintly-thudding concrete and I look up at him with a grin. “Do I seem that pathetic to you?”

He looks me over, throat to thighs and back up again. He raises an eyebrow.

 

I’m sure that he must have grabbed me by the shirt and led me into this bathroom – I’m fairly sure it’s the women’s – but the few seconds that I was not pressed up against the countertop with my palms flat beside the sink have quickly faded from my memory. With his bare chest firmly against my back he closes one hand loosely around my throat and the other begins pawing at the fastenings on my armor. He’s clumsy about it in his distraction, but with a little help he gets me down to my linen undershirt and slides his free hand up my ribs. I can feel his lips brushing my ear as he breathes, feel his cock stiffening through his jeans.

Roughly, he pushes his hand down the front of my pants – it’s difficult and awkward against the hard edge of the sink, but it’s not like I really need to be worked up anyway. I lean into his warm palm and give him a moan loud enough to echo a little. The fingers splayed across my throat slide up to brush my lips. I touch his index finger with my tongue and he slips it into my mouth. I know he can see me in the mirror so I make a good show of it, curling my tongue and closing my eyes and leaning forward a little to press my ass against his groin as his fingertip slides back and forth. He tastes of salt and plastic.

His fingers leave my mouth and busy themselves unbuttoning his fly. Hurriedly, I do the same, and as my waistband slides down my thighs I widen my stance a bit. As soon as I feel his bare skin on the small of my back I envy Kate. The Kree obviously know what matters in a genetically engineered body. I spare a brief but amusing thought for what the algorithm for perfect cock-to-body proportion looks like, and who decided that at a certain point they were just showing off.

The tangible proves more pressing than the abstract. His hand grips my waist and his shaft slides tantalizingly over my ass. He’s wet with something, and for that I’m grateful – I had been dubiously eyeing the soap dispenser – but he plainly isn’t willing to give much consideration to the fact that this body has never done this before.

Fine. Fine, I don’t need to be cosseted like a child.

“Come on, pretty space boy,” I pant.

His foot bumps the inside of mine, forcing my legs apart, and he guides his cock into me. I make a sound like I’ve been punched in the gut – which, in a way, I have. He lets me take a few shuddering breaths before drawing back a bit and sinking it in again.

I’m less enamored with his dick now that it’s actually in me. As I groan through clenched teeth I silently curse whatever Kree geneticist thought Noh-Varr deserved something to feel smug about. I feel so full I can hardly breathe and part of me still wants it desperately, but by the Norns it _hurts_.

“Regretting all that talk now?” He murmurs against my neck, moaning softly for emphasis as he drives me into the counter again.

Defiantly, I press back against him, letting him have me a bit deeper. “You could be _touching_ me, you know,” I manage to keep almost silent as he thrusts. “Rude.”

“What, _this_ isn’t enough?” I catch his radiant smile in the mirror. “You want me to put my fingers in you too, would that help?”

It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to take the dare. He’s a little too right about me. Wordlessly, I slide my palm between my stomach and the countertop and stroke myself hard again. He laughs a little, but obligingly covers my hand with his own and takes over. He’s good too, the smug prick, in spite of all his taunting he is far from perfunctory about it.

He takes my appreciative hum as invitation to fuck me harder, but I hardly mind it now. My whole abdomen aches, yet every time he pulls out I find myself missing the dense, invasive heat of him.

He stops stroking me and grips my shoulder instead, his panting urgent against my neck as the counter leaves merciless bruises on my hips.

“Go on,” I breathe, and I say it not like a plea but like a challenge. “I want you to, I want to feel it.”

He pushes me forward over the sink and comes with a soundless fervor that leaves fingertip-shaped marks on my waist and shoulder. His pulse slows almost immediately, and he shifts his weight back, but I hastily grab the edge of his front pocket and hold him where he is.

“No,” I gasp, “give me a second.”

He gives a breathy, condescending laugh as I touch myself, still too drunk on the sensation of his mostly-hard cock in my ass to consider how sore I’m going to be for the next week. He’s bored by the time I come into my palm, but he humors me, resting his hands on my hips and leaning into me a bit.

He laughs again. “You do now.”

“I…I do what?” My voice shakes a little.

“You seem very pathetic.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so I may have made Noh-Varr slightly more of a jerk than he actually is, but a) he doesn't like or respect Loki all that much and b) SOMEBODY had to fuck Loki over a bathroom sink and I wanted to write about Noh-Varr's genetically engineered dick okay.
> 
> Also, I am 100% in favor of the Gillen-endorsed idea that Noh-Varr has two dicks, but let's just assume he keeps the spare hidden somewhere, because that was not relevant to this fic.


End file.
